On the Wings of Death
by Japanarchy
Summary: When Heero and Duo are captured and used as lab rats, they and the other pilots seek revenge. The web of conspiracies they uncover casts doubt on who among their allies they can trust. 1x2 3x4. Language. Violence.
1. In the Clutches of Agony

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its affiliated trademarks. 

Author's Note: Heero and Duo are captured and experimented on. This chapter depicts torture and is not for the squeamish. 1+2. Language. TWT. Constructive criticism is welcome. Edited 05/06/07.

**Chapter One, In the Clutches of Agony**

"Damn it," Heero growled. He pressed the trigger of his buster rifle and got no response. When he pulled out his beam saber, it fizzled with a flash of green light and gave a sickening pop as the glow was snuffed out. "Out of fuel." His mind raced desperately as the horde of enemy mobile suits began to close, cutting off any retreat. His fingers flew over the computer console as he hastily tried to reroute power from the life support system, only to discover there was nothing left to reroute. He wiped the sweat from his eyes, considering the mass of enemies encroaching in his position. No options left...

He opened a com link with his partner. "Duo." The braided boy's haggard but determined face popped up on the view screen. "It's no use. I'm finished. Leave while you can before I self destruct."

Duo gave his co-pilot a piercing gaze with his blue eyes. "Well, it looks like we're in the same boat then, pal." To demonstrate he activated his thermal energy scythe, his mobile suit shuddering with the effort of lifting the weapon. Nothing happened, not even a flash of light. "See? If you die you're taking me with you." A rain of bullets pummeled their broken Gundams as the enemy closed within striking range. They moved their Gundams closer together, back to back, for protection from the onslaught of bullets. "It won't be long before we can't even move."

"One minute and thirteen seconds," offered Heero.

"Helpful as always, eh Heero?" Duo remarked sarcastically. A direct hit to the Deathscythe brought his mobile suit to its knees. Unwilling to give up, he tried again and again to regain his feet, using the useless scythe for support.

Heero maneuvered the Wing Zero to kneel between his prone partner and the heavy assault and lowered the shield in front of himself. "If we're going to self detonate, we'd better do it now." He studied Duo's face carefully in the monitor, checking for resolve, and shared a look of understanding. They were soldiers, expendable in this war. They failed the mission to destroy the medical base, and the only duty left to them was to silence themselves and take out as many of the enemy as possible.

Duo tried grinning, but only managed a grimace. "Hey, if we're going to die, who better to tag along than the God of Death?" His face twisted in a mirthless smile. Together, they rested their hands against the self-destruct buttons and surrounded themselves in silence, quietly reflecting while gazing at each other in the peace of acceptance of their fates. Their cockpits echoed with the pounding of bullets on their gundanium armor, demanding them to give in, relent, die. "See you in Hell, buddy."

Heero's mouth quirked slightly. "Hn. Mission acce-"

Before either of them had the chance to trigger the detonation, a sudden flash of white burned the cold moonlight into a bright sun, burning everything it touched. Their Gundams shook as a jolt of electricity surged from the ground below them, into the mobile suits, and poured through the pilots' bodies. They shook helplessly as the current tore at their consciousness to rip them from the waking world. The last thing either remembered before being plunged into darkness was the excruciating pain as they were electrocuted.

_Transmission Interrupted_

As soon as Heero regained consciousness, he lowered his heartbeat and leveled his brainwaves to mimic deep REM sleep. He took inventory of his situation while keeping his eyelids closed, getting a feel for the positions of his limbs in relation to his body. His feet lightly touched the floor while he sagged against manacles around his wrists, hanging from the ceiling. He noticed that his ankles were shackled as well. As slightly chilly air moved over his body he realized he was naked. Wires and nodes were taped all over to his skin from head to toe. Very cautiously, he minutely opened his deep blue eyes to take a brief glance from under his lashes, then quickly closed them again. Through the blindingly bright light, he saw in that glance he saw that he was in a sterile, white laboratory completely barren of equipment and supplies but for the chains holding him. He couldn't even see seams in the ceiling and tiles, just blank, white, and empty. But he wasn't alone. Duo was in the same predicament, hanging nude straight across from him, still unconscious. He opened his eyes the slightest bit to inspect Duo's body for visible injuries.

Heero didn't wonder for long why they would be put in such a position. They had been rendered unconscious by the flood of electricity and taken prisoner, probably at the very medical base they had come to destroy. Prisoners were restrained in such a fashion for only one reason: to torture them. For a fleeting moment Heero had trouble maintaining his body's electrical readings as a wave of distress washed over him, then he controlled himself and said a silent thank you to Doctor J. He was sure he was going to need his high pain tolerance later on.

With a loud groan Duo came to, and his head rolled from side to side before bringing it up with visible effort. The shackles chimed as he tugged at the chains around his wrists and ankles, and sore muscles perceptibly spasmed in protest. His eyes opened, blinking rapidly against the sterile white light, and looked down at himself, then across at Heero. "Hey Heero," he whispered hoarsely. Heero gave no response, instead thinking it wiser to continue acting unconscious until the situation could be fully assessed. "Psst, Heero. Fine, have it your way, but I'm not just gonna sit around and let some pervert take dirty pictures of me." With a deep breath, Duo rattled his chains and yelled obnoxiously. "Hey, anybody wanna come and let us loose? We promise we won't blow anything up. Helloooo? Well, if you're gonna molest us, hurry up and do it so I can put my clothes back on. I'm cold!"

Heero snorted inwardly but made no move to let Duo know he was awake. The Deathscythe pilot probably guessed it anyway. Actually, it was a good thing that Duo was making such a ruckus; it would hopefully bring someone in to check on them. Or maybe torture or even rape them, but any kind of change was an improvement to a blank white box of a room. If someone came in, there was a chance that they'd screw up, allowing the teenage Gundam pilots to escape. He very slowly tested his strength against the shackles, making sure not to clank the links together. They didn't budge. Gundanium alloy, it seemed. Heero couldn't break this metal, and if their captors knew this information, then this had been planned for quite some time. A trap? What about Duo, did they expect him, too?

Finally they heard the whoosh of an automated door opening. Heero was facing the wrong direction and couldn't see it, but Duo could, since he was facing opposite him. He trusted the other pilot to take the opportunity to memorize the room beyond where they were being held. He heard shuffling steps and the squeak of old wheels, then the door sighed shut as the cold breeze blew uncomfortably against his naked backside. The person who came in pushing a medical cart was nondescript, other than that he was a rather short male with a hunch to his shoulders. His body was covered from head to toe in white scrubs, and black-tinted goggles masked even his eyes. The cart had one squeaky wheel.

Across from him, Duo eyed the new person, then snorted. "Jeesh, and here I was thinking we were in serious danger, and out comes Dr. Frankenstein."

"You won't think anything funny when we're through, boy," grated out a harsh, mechanical voice distorted by a scrambling device. Even through the distortion, the voice sounded familiar somehow, but he couldn't place it. Maybe Duo would know. The doctor's lab coat brushed the ground as he turned to face him. "You may as well show some interest, 01. We already know you're awake."

Heero surreptitiously closed his eyelids completely, cursed himself, and wondered what had given it away, but still he hung limply from his chains, not quite sure if the doctor was bluffing or not.

The man shrugged. "It matters not." He turned to his cart with his back to the two captives, and noisily set about making preparations. While he clattered and clanged against the metal tray, he whistled a merry and off-key tune to a small dance.

"If you're gonna run tests or whatever, you don't have to be cruel about it. Sheesh, just shut up already. I've heard dying cats that sound better than that," Duo complained loudly.

The doctor turned to look at him, and even under the surgical mask and goggles, he could tell the man was smiling. The wrinkles around his eyes crinkled with an expression of joy as he regarded Duo for a very long time. He looked nothing so much like a child happily tearing the wings off a butterfly, and Duo was that butterfly. There was something very creepy and familiar about that man. Duo's face quickly changed to a mask of anger, unwilling to show this man any fear. The doctor's voice held a smile in it as he said, "Oh, but my dear 02, I intend to enjoy myself immensely. I want to hear you scream, oh yes. And him, also. I think I deserve it, after all my hard work developing this." He held up a small bottle filled with a silver liquid and chuckled to himself. This time Duo did shiver, but tried to cover it up by yanking forcefully on his bindings.

Heero finally opened his eyes to intently study the bottle. He didn't think it was medicine, and if the liquid was mercury, then they were in for a prolonged and painful death. He looked at Duo, who did his best to give a cheery smile and show optimism in his face, but his fake smile faltered and died as he looked into Heero's eyes. There would be no health surveys and battle simulations here - these people meant to kill them.

The man grunted when he saw Heero awake but ignored him, and instead tilted the vial of fluid up and inserted a cruel, large syringe into the bottle, carefully measuring the liquid. He padded over to Duo first and wiped a spot off on his thigh with a cotton swab dampened with rubbing alcohol.

"Whoa, hey now. I don't play guinea pig until I know what's going into me. Hear?" Duo laughed nervously, apprehensively eyeing the needle the doctor tapped methodically. He tried to buy time, afraid of what would happen when the tip of that needle made contact with his skin. "Just what's the point of this, anyway? Why us? There are plenty of people you could pay for this, you know, willing experiments and all." He squirmed in the chains, unable to move away from the approaching man.

The doctor's eyes darted from the needle and crinkled with mirth. "Oh, you're quite right about that. But I'm afraid they all died." He laughed cheerfully for a few moments at the thought, then suddenly the glee disappeared from his voice and turned cold and deadly. "Unfortunate, but necessary. And you, 02, are not what we were after. You are an inconvenience. You are not the physical specimen we wanted, but we will still enjoy watching you suffer and die." Before Duo could desperately protest or ask more questions, the doctor plunged the needle savagely into his thigh.

Duo's body shook and trembled, his teeth grit and eyes squeezed shut. "God damn you to Hell," he hissed.

The mad scientist giggled. "You first." He turned to Heero, and the childlike excitement was back on his face. As he stared at Heero's naked body, his breathing became fast and ragged, and he unconsciously wiped his gloved hands on his lab coat. "A perfect specimen. Hopefully you will survive long enough to prove my theory. Perfect." He ran his hands up and down Heero's legs, unabashedly groping him and roughly caressing everything his hands could reach. When Heero didn't even flinch, the doctor looked a bit disappointed and shuffled back to the cart. He returned with a cotton ball and swabbed a patch of skin close to Heero's groin.

"Jesus, you sick fuck," Duo gasped. The spot were he had been injected was inflamed and beginning to weep fluids. "Why don't you rape me, too? Come on, aren't you man enough? Don't think you can take on 02?"

Heero urgently shook his head and tried to make eye contact with the other pilot. Duo refused to look in his direction. What was he thinking, antagonizing the madman like that? Was he trying to get himself killed faster? Maybe the silver liquid was already getting to him and affecting his judgment, or it was too painful to bear. But the doctor ignored his taunts and instead picked up the needle, ready to begin with his second subject.

Duo struggled against the chains. "You're not going to use the same needle, are you? That's unsanitary!"

And then Heero realized what Duo was up to. He was trying to buy time for Heero, in the event that something extreme happened that would save him.

The doctor paused and looked curiously at Duo before the innocent joy returned to his eyes. His grin could be heard in his voice. "No, no. I wouldn't want my little experiment to be messed up by someone else's blood contaminating it." He took another syringe from the tray and filled it with the deadly liquid, then almost reverently plunged the needle into Heero's upper thigh, right next to his groin. Heero's brow creased, but he made no other signal of discomfort. The doctor studied his face intently and apparently decided Heero wasn't suffering enough, so he sadistically twisted the needle deeper until Heero grunted.

The doctor's cold, latex-clad hands patted his face affectionately. "That was most enjoyable. Now, you two enjoy my little miracle drug." And with that he whistled a tune and merrily wheeled his squeaky cart out of the room, the door closing behind him with an eerie finality.

Heero looked at Duo and saw that he was trying his best to hide that he was already in some pain, but he saw it in the other's eyes and muttered a soft curse. What started out as a little stinging was becoming a roaring burn inside Heero's muscles. He had been trained to endure a great deal of pain, but this was different. This was coming from inside himself. His veins burned with a fire that spread from his groin and traveled from his toes to his fingertips, then began pooling at his back. Suddenly he felt as if his upper back were being ripped apart. He shook violently and gasped.

Despite his pain, he couldn't help but worry when he saw the agony Duo was in. He knew he could deal with it better than the other pilot could, so it would probably be worse for Duo. The drug was meant to kill him. How long could his partner survive? Already his trembling body was covered in sweat, and gasping sobs racked his body as he hung his head limply on his chest. "Duo." The hoarse gasps continued. "Duo!" The other boy wearily rolled his head up to look over, his eyes dilated and unfocused. "You have to be stronger than this, Duo. We won't let them kill us here."

"Hee... Heero. AHHHHHHH!"

Then he felt it. First like a swarm of angry ants biting at his skin, then like some beast inside was struggling to get out from between his shoulder blades, clawing and tearing at the muscles and skin to find its release. His skin felt on fire, as though he was being held over a flame. He panted and moaned, his head hanging against his chest as he tried to deal with the pain. But it was no use. It intensified until he knew he was going to be sick as he felt blood trickling down from his shoulders. He pulled and yanked at his bonds, trying desperately to do anything to relieve the agony he was in. With what little lucidity was left to him, he tried to focus on Duo. Through the red haze of pain he saw that every muscle in his body was taut with the strain of trying to break free from the chains. Heero panted and whimpered as blood flowed down his back, over his calves and dripped onto the floor in a growing puddle.

Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. Heero shouted in agony as he felt that agonizing something finally break free from the confines of his skin. He twisted and writhed when he felt as though his insides were being pulled out in a long, sucking, slurping motion. His voice was hoarse with screaming. He dimly heard it being echoed by Duo through the pounding in his ears, but his eyes were screwed shut against the pain and didn't see what was happening to the braided pilot, but at least the screams meant he was still alive.

The torture seemed to go on for ages, never ending, always reaching new heights of agony, making Heero long for sweet unconsciousness so he wouldn't feel any more. And then, at last, the tearing feeling, the horrible rending motion, stopped. He was still bleeding and in terrible pain, but the worst of it had stopped. Thankfully the darkness swept his mind, chasing away his last shred of lucidity. He was unconscious before he knew it, following Duo into the abyss.

_Transmission Interrupted_

The lunar base shuddered with a loud explosion as the three Gundams forced their way in.

After Duo and Heero had missed their rendezvous with the other pilots, they immediately assumed the worst and set out looking for them. Heero was never late, and even though Duo sometimes acted scatter-brained he was always punctual. Unfortunately, they had been right when they thought of a worst case scenario. The three soldiers quickly located the base where their comrades were being held and launched a hard, fast strike.

Quatre led the way to where the blueprint he'd hacked into said the two were imprisoned. That they were held in the medical wing sent cold fingers of anticipation running down his spine, and as much as he wanted to hope they were alright, they had been captured here for hours. When enemy soldiers stopped them at turns in the cold, steel hallways, he simply mowed them down with his machine gun and continued. There would be no allowance for surrender in this mission. He had sent Wufei to disarm the security measures and establish an escape route, and Trowa was backing up Quatre.

"No mistaking this security, it's got to be here," Quatre yelled as he solemnly sprayed the oncoming guards with bullets. "I need some cover, Trowa!" Trowa moved to cover both ends of the hallway in rapid fire, making sure no one so much as peeked their head around a corner before they were killed. Quatre studied the door in front of him, dug out a small time bomb from his pack and placed it at the seam to explode in five seconds. "Take cover!" Trowa shot one more round down the hallway when he saw movement before the two of them ran, hitting the floor just as the explosion rocked the steel floor and a wave of heat blew across their backs. Before the smoke had cleared he ushered them into the holding cell and quickly closed the door behind them. What they saw when they entered the blindingly bright room stopped them cold.

Heero and Duo hung naked and lifeless from the ceiling, nodes and wires crisscrossing their flesh. Fresh blood was puddled at their feet and painted against the walls and ceiling, leaving streaks of red as it smeared downward. The smell of blood was overpowering, and Quatre covered his mouth to stop from gagging. His heart sank. So much blood, they couldn't possibly be alive anymore. And then Quatre's breath caught at what protruded from their raw and bloodied shoulders: wings, covered in blood so thick it was almost black. They were enormous, laying heavily on the ground and easily reaching their whole body length. "We have to help them," he choked out.

Trowa looked at him sadly, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Quatre. . . I don't think there's anything we can do for them."

"No! We can't leave them here like this! We can't! Please, Trowa." He couldn't seem to stop his body from shivering, couldn't tear his eyes away from his friends' mangled bodies. With a surge of anger he straightened and marched over to Heero's limp form. He would help them, even if it was nothing more than giving them a proper burial. "The chains must be made from gundanium," he observed, "otherwise Heero would have broken them. And with all the blood, I think they were in enough pain to try very hard."

Trowa wasted no time and placed charges on the metal links above their arms and legs. With a loud crack, the gundanium shattered and dropped the pilots heavily to the floor, and the nodes ripped from their skin with the force. Trowa picked Heero up in a fireman's hold, carefully avoiding his upper back, while Quatre took charge of Duo. They struggled to get a good grip on their wounded comrades as their hands slipped in all of the blood. Without a second glance back, they charged their way out the door and through the base.

They reached the hangar where Wufei was waiting with three carrier shuttles, and he had somehow managed to recover Heero and Duo's mobile suits as well. "They're almost loaded and ready to go, so hurry it up. Where are-?" Wufei stopped cold as he recognized the bloody figures the two were carrying, and he gawked helplessly for a moment at the protuberances on the captives' backs. He shook his head violently. "No time for explanations. Later, at the safe house"

"Let's get out of here before reinforcements come," ordered Quatre. They carefully loaded the broken bodies onto Quatre's carrier and prepared to take off with their extra cargo. Quatre flew his plane very gently so as not to jostle their companions, and with that they left the base behind, not speaking once as they fled.

_End Transmission_


	2. Sick at Heart

Disclaimers: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its affiliated trademarks.

Author's Note: Heero and Duo have been experimented on and now all the pilots are dealing with the after effects. TWT. Mention of torture. 1+2. 3+4. Constructive criticism is welcome. Edited 05/07/07.

**Chapter Two, Sick at Heart**

Quatre knew that five Gundams in one spot would be too conspicuous in space, but right now they lacked the resources necessary to re-enter the Earth's atmosphere. Trowa scouted a derelict colony on the edge of the L2 area that was unoccupied by opposing factions. Its few inhabitants were too poor to be of any significance to a military force and were distrustful of any strangers, so they found a rundown house close to the abandoned waste facilities to hide at until they figured out a plan. Together they hauled their comrades' prone bodies into the first floor bedroom and laid them on their stomachs. There was still fresh blood oozing out of their backs, and the brown, dried crust began to flake off on everything. The stench of iron was overbearing.

Quatre had discovered on their desperate flight away from the moon that their friends still clung to life, but he couldn't be sure for how long without a hospital or at least a doctor. He reached out and touched Duo's chilled shoulder and couldn't suppress his tears. "They're still alive, but barely. Heero's breathing is steady, but Duo. . . His pulse is weak, and I don't know if he'll make it through the night. They lost so much blood."

Wufei put a firm hand on his arm and turned the blond pilot to look hard at him. "Listen to me. We won't let those cowards get away with this." He waited for Quatre's nod before letting him go. "I'll find some medical supplies and bring them back here. The faster they recover, the faster we can get back at OZ." With a last, angry look at his fallen comrades, he shot out of the old house.

Trowa smiled gently at Quatre and slipped a comforting hand over his shoulder. "They'll make it through this. Heero's been through worse, and Duo's too stubborn to die. We'll take care of them."

Quatre covered his hand with his own, gripping it tightly for a moment. "Thanks, Trowa. Really." He sat down heavily into a chair between the two beds, staring forlornly at their bodies, and realized he and Trowa were covered in their blood. He thought he was going to be sick. He ran to the bathroom and scrubbed his hands vigorously, trying to get the red crust from beneath his fingernails and remove the image of his hands slipping across Duo's shoulders as he tried to pick him up. He startled when a bloody hand touched his arm. "Trowa, don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry." Quatre felt himself being studied by those green eyes. "You okay?"

He nodded. "I just need to feel clean again. I'll be fine. Trowa, would you please take care of the Gundams while I wash them up?" Quatre turned his face away as Trowa looked intently at him, as if judging whether or not he could handle this alone.

"Sure thing, Quatre, I'll be right back. Take care." And he slipped out like a quiet breeze without another word.

Now Quatre was alone with his injured friends. He covered his mouth with his hand, bracing himself for the sight, and walked back into the bedroom. As dirty as he felt, he resisted mightily the need to shower for hours on end to rid himself of this feeling. His friends had to come first. He found some old towels and a bucket, and filled it with hot, soapy water from the bath tub, then walked back into the bedroom, determined to remove every red stain on their bodies before he cleaned himself. He sat next to Duo, and realized he wouldn't be able to clean their fronts without some help, but at least he could clean the rest. He gently rubbed the warm cloth against his face, and the caked blood began to run off like red tears; Quatre had a hard time holding his own in. Duo's breath came in short, ragged pants, and the layer of brown revealed a face that was too white from anemia. "Oh, Duo."

He slowly rinsed off his long braid, then moved to his arms and shoulders. He hesitated, the washcloth poised above his upper back, then he moved to clean his legs first, instead. He paid careful attention to his wrists and ankles, which were raw from the manacles he had struggled so hard against. But inevitably, he had to face the worst area, the place where those unimaginable protrusions were blackened with blood. His hand shaking, he slowly wiped the cloth against one wing and checked nervously for a change in Duo's breathing. No response. Again, he carefully wiped away the crust, and a pool of brown began to form on the bed.

"That's strange," he thought. As much as he washed, the wings remained black. He checked the water for cleanliness, and decided he should change it. Maybe that was why his. . . those things weren't getting clean. With a new bucket of hot water and a clean rag, he tenderly unfolded the limb from Duo's back and started again. Still black. With renewed concentration, Quatre cleaned the entire appendage from root to tip, and marveled at what was revealed. It was black, covered in soft velvet with three bones spread throughout the leathery surface, like a . . . "Like a bat's wing." He carefully folded the wing against Duo's back again, and moved around the bed to work on the other one. When he was done, he stared in horrified awe at the huge, black wings nestled against the angry red skin of Duo's shoulders, while the puddle of blood around him made the rest of his skin look paper white. This had to be a nightmare. Deciding to wait for the others to return before attempting to clean his front side, he covered up his legs with a blanket and moved to study Heero.

Quatre smiled. "I know you're going to make it, Heero. You're strong. You really are." He left to change the water, wondering if he would find the same thing underneath the crust. He started with the face again, and the look of pure agony he uncovered made him sick at heart, but his strong breathing was encouraging. He wanted to avoid touching those things on his back as long as possible and gently cleaned his entire body before pausing. He put a shaking hand to the limb, unfolded it from behind him, and dripped some water onto it. He blinked in consternation, and intently washed more off, uncovering long, graceful feathers that looked brown at first, and the blood slowly melted away to reveal a dazzling white. Quatre finished cleaning first one, then the other, and stood back to stare. He hated himself for it, but he admitted they were stunning - enormous, white feathered wings that reminded him of nothing so much as an old, Earth-style painting of angels.

He looked down at himself and realized he was covered in yet more blood. He quickly covered his mouth to suppress a violent gag and ran to the bathroom. Without bothering to undress, he turned the shower on as hot as possible and stood under the stream of water, clothes and all. Quatre leaned heavily against the walls and screwed his eyes shut against the sight of water black with his friends' blood draining off of him. He stayed like that for a very long time, trying to block the images of the room where they had been tortured, their bodies hanging lifelessly from the red-splattered ceiling, the feeling of Duo's blood dripping down his neck as he carried him out of the base, the overwhelming smell. . . It was too much, and he found himself wet from the still-running shower and bent over the toilet, giving it the remains of his lunch.

When he emerged from the bathroom a long time later, he found Duo and Heero completely clean and lying in new sheets, oxygen tubes in their noses and bandaging around their wrists and ankles. Wufei was setting up two IV drips he had probably stolen, and Trowa was pulling a warm blanket over Duo's legs. Trowa was still caked in brown, and now Wufei didn't look much better either.

Trowa looked up and caught Quatre staring at him, then looked down at himself. "Everything's taken care of, Quatre. We've done the best we can for them right now." Quatre seemed to blink out of a daze. "I'll go shower now."

Quatre moved to sit in the simple, wooden chair between the two beds that held Duo and Heero. The two boys were lying on their stomachs, naked but for the white sheets covering them up to their waists. Antibacterial gel glistened between their shoulders on the raw wounds where their. . . new appendages emerged. He felt his mind going blank from overload, and let it turn to white noise.

Wufei inserted the intravenous needle into Heero's hand, then sat on the floor cross-legged next to Quatre. They sat together quietly for a while, listening to the distant sound of water splashing while Trowa showered and the fluids dripping in the IV bags. "I don't get it," Wufei said.

"What don't you get?" he replied quietly.

"Why? Why do this? What's the point? _Why_?" He punched his fist into the floor in frustration.

Quatre thought for a moment, then whispered, "Power."

Wufei turned to look at him questioningly.

"They have too much power. They did it because they could. Consequences don't matter when you have that much power." He looked down into Wufei's eyes, dancing with anger. "We can't let them keep it."

Wufei fell silent, turning this over in his mind. Quatre could see his expression darkening before he said in a dangerous whisper, "Agreed."

Duo had several close calls that first night, but he managed to pull through with round-the-clock care from the three of them and plenty of stolen hospital goods. For the next two days they tube fed them, trying to nurse them back to health without professional aid. They didn't want to risk contacting anyone, not even Sally Po, their ally, good friend, and military physician. Quatre figured that every night they came through increased their chances of survival, and he held out strong hope that they would recover soon. There was always one of them by their sides, while the others kept watch and went on reconnaissance, but Quatre found himself by their sides most frequently, unable to sleep with concern for their friends. He sat between their beds and absently stroked the velvety softness of Duo's . . . wings, and alternately ran his hands across Heero's smooth, cool feathers.

He had fallen asleep with Heero's wing in his lap when he felt it quiver the smallest bit, waking him from his disturbed dreams. Quatre heard a low moan from Heero's throat. He scooted the chair closer, careful not to disturb the wing he held, and examined his face closely, watching for anything useful. Heero's eyes flickered behind the lids, and he yelled for Wufei and Trowa to come quickly. Heero groaned again and slowly opened his eyes. The first thing that came into focus was Quatre's concerned face, teal eyes studying his.

"What . . ." Heero tried. He found that his voice was raw and barely more than a whisper. He tried again. "What happened?"

Quatre's blue eyes unintentionally moved past his face to look at his shoulders. Heero remembered the excruciating pain that had emanated from that area. He slowly turned his head to look at his shoulder, hissing in pain as he moved his sore neck muscles. As he tried to look back, he saw Trowa and Wufei running into the dilapidated room with looks of concern. Not good, he decided. He wanted desperately to rest his head and stop the pain, but he grit his teeth and stubbornly continued to turn his neck and saw . . . something that couldn't be there. Were those wings? It didn't seem possible; it made the agony seem more alien. Experimentally he tried moving it. He grunted and shuddered in fiery pain as the muscles in it responded. It was real, all right. To his left, he saw one of them was spread out in Quatre's lap, and beyond him--

A thought roared to the front of his mind. "Duo," he rasped out. He had been subjected to the same treatment he had. They had gone through this together. They said that the drug was supposed to kill him, so if he felt like he'd just self destructed, then how was Duo faring?

The blond boy sat back in his chair to let Heero see past him at the other pilot. Duo was still out cold, but breathing painfully. Heero's lethargy was broken slightly at his surprise to see black, leathery wings extending from Duo's shoulders. They had both been given the same serum, so why would the results be so different? How had Duo survived? Had they lied about the effects? His fatigue and pain were beginning to cloud his mind, so Heero decided to just be glad that the braided pilot was still with him. He sighed in relief.

Wufei leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed while the tall brunette brought a glass of water and a painkiller over to Heero's bedside. He offered it to the pilot, watching wordlessly. Heero never accepted any type of painkiller. Trowa could remember only once when he had taken any, and that was immediately after the battle in Siberia. Duo said that even when he had set his own broken leg he didn't take any. It dulled his senses and slowed his response time. But now, the pain was new, different. Heero wanted nothing more than to relieve it, and now he had three fellow Gundam pilots to keep watch. He closed his eyes and nodded slightly in consent.

The other three boys knitted their eyebrows in concern. They knew things were really bad if Heero needed drugs. They worried the more about how Duo was.

Trowa gently placed the pill in Heero's mouth and held the glass to his lips. It was strong enough to tranquilize a lion, which he calculated should act as a strong sedative for Heero. Water dribbled out as he drank in huge swallows, trying to wash away the dryness in his throat. When he was finished, Quatre brought a cloth to wipe his chin.

Through all of this Wufei stood silently at the door, his anger building in a warm tide at seeing Heero so helpless. He knew that Heero and Duo were anything but weak, and to see them reduced to this was infuriating. Heero, who never accepted any sympathy or pity, was now being cleaned like a baby. Duo, with his dauntless spirit, was still lying unconscious from his ordeal. Wufei straightened and restrained his fists at his sides. He vowed to get revenge. Nobody treated his friends like this. Not if they wanted to live.

With a plan forming in his mind, Wufei stormed out of the house.

After Heero had fallen asleep, Quatre insisted he could continue watching over them for a few more hours, and guarded them all through the following night. Heero never awoke, thanks to the powerful tranquilizers. At dawn, Trowa took over watching the two. Quatre looked weary and depressed, and Trowa thought a break would do him good. He wondered where Wufei had gone off to, but it wasn't hard to guess. He knew how maddening this was for him, for all of them. He just hoped Wufei didn't do anything stupid. Trowa had taken up the same habit that Quatre had, stroking both of the pilot's wings. He marveled at the warmth in Duo's wing and couldn't get enough of the downy softness of Heero's feathers, so he stroked Duo with his right hand and Heero with his left just because it felt good.

Then Duo twitched and opened his eyes, staring straight at Trowa. Pain flashed across those marvelous blue orbs, simultaneously asking for help while trying not to. Gasping, he attempted to raise his body, but stopped and shouted hoarsely in pain before he was even an inch off the bed and collapsed back into it.

"Duo, lie still. I'm going to get you some drugs. I'll be right back." With that Trowa took off down the hallway towards the bathroom.

He vividly remembered the mad scientist laughing cruelly, the cold sting of a needle plunged into his leg, the pain, and so much blood. Duo couldn't believe the searing agony in his shoulders. He decided it meant he was still alive, which was a good thing, he supposed. But what did they do to him that hurt so much? Then he saw across him, at Heero, whose passive face was turned towards him. He stared at what he saw extending from his upper back. With a terrible flash he remembered seeing Heero in the throes of agony, his body taut as a bow as blood coursed freely down his back. He thought he was going to be sick as he thought of what might be coming from his own shoulders. He didn't want to see, not yet.

"Damn it, where's that clown with those pills?" He was surprised by the rasping of his own voice, and wondered if his vocal chords would be damaged for good. Just then the green-eyed pilot came back with water and two painkillers. Duo greedily swallowed them both, not caring about the water that ran down his chin. Trowa cleaned him up with a washcloth and resumed sitting in the chair.

As Trowa reached out toward him and put something in his lap, he felt an odd sensation, not unlike a massage. His brow knitted in puzzlement, wondering why he was feeling as though he were being petted when Trowa's hands were nowhere near his body. Screwing up his courage, he braced against the pain and slowly angled his head to look at his shoulders.

Wings. He had them, too, but they were almost like a bat's. He saw Trowa's hand gently stroking him, and it felt good. He sighed as Trowa's touch seemed to remove the pain. "Thanks. That's really nice," he told him.

Despite his urge to hesitate, Trowa kept his hand moving at a steady pace. "So you can feel this?"

Duo closed his eyes in a silent "yes." He felt a small smile trying to work its way onto his face, but when he remembered Heero it quickly vanished. "How's he?" he asked, motioning slightly to the other bed.

"He woke up just a few hours ago. He'll be fine soon enough."

Duo felt a knot of tension form in his stomach as he asked, "Did he take any drugs?"

Trowa's eyes were steady as he nodded. "One painkiller."

Even though he was seriously worried about his friend, Duo grinned slightly at how obstinate the other pilot was. He knew that Heero was in just as much pain as he was, but he still only took one pill. "How long? How long have I been out?"

Trowa's hand paused in mid stroke. "This is the fourth day since we rescued you from the base."

Duo tried his best to look smug. Served that nasty doctor right for underestimating him. He was just as good of a physical specimen as the perfect soldier over there was. "Don't stop." The hand continued its gentle petting. "Trowa, I need to sleep." He looked into his eyes, almost beseeching protection. Trowa could see how helpless and afraid Duo was, even though he tried to disguise it. He nodded solemnly, pretending not to notice the haunted look in Duo's eyes.

"I'll be here, and so will Quatre. Sleep."

With that Duo closed his eyes, knowing he was safe. Nightmares plagued him, different than his usual ones of war and death, disease and lost loved ones, yet a comforting hand always brought him back to the feeling of safety.

_Transmission Interrupted_

Wufei crouched behind a wall, hiding from the patrol troops inside the base where Heero and Duo had been held. When the guards passed he quickly flitted to another corner, slowly making his way towards the information headquarters. He pressed his back flat against the wall as another guard narrowly missed him.

Finally he was situated just outside the room he was looking for. There were two soldiers stationed at the door, looking asleep on their feet. "Heh," the Chinese boy thought. "Tightened security my ass." Wufei took out a gas grenade from his shoulder pack, pulled the pin, and rolled it silently towards them. It released the knockout gas with a hiss, and the guards swayed and moaned before falling to the floor. After stepping over the sleeping bodies, he deactivated the lock with little trouble, and when he entered the room he saw that it was empty. It was filled with computer terminals and kiosks, and the only window, undetectable from the other direction, looked onto a white room splattered with blood.

"Fools. Not enough protection." Wufei quickly set about hacking into the computers, searching for any files on his two friends. "Bingo." In a few minutes he had downloaded all of the data onto a disc before erasing it from the hard drive and releasing a nasty little virus into the main computer. Just as he exited the room, he threw in a grenade and shut the door. He allowed himself a slight smile when he heard the satisfying explosion of the bomb going off and the whoosh of a fire ignited in the computer circuitry. "Now, I just have to get out of here. That should be simple enough, the idiots." He looked down at the disc in his hand and resisted the urge to crush it to pieces. He needed it so he could find the people who had done this to his friends. He needed it so he could hopefully find a cure. He wouldn't rest until everything was resolved in his mind.

As he left in his mobile suit, he blew up as much of the base as he could, venting his outrage. It seemed that he couldn't kill enough people. He wanted them all to suffer for what they had done. To him. To his friends.

_End Transmission_


	3. Revelations

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its affiliated trademarks.

Author's Note: Heero and Duo were experimented on. Now they have to try to live with the side effects. 1+2. 3+4. Sap. Language. TWT. Mention of torture. Constructive criticism is welcome. Edited 05/08/07.

**Chapter Three, Revelations**

It wasn't the usual nightmare with the war, his training, or the little girl he had killed that Heero struggled to wake from. This time he was being tortured with fire, the flames licking at his skin, hot tongues of pain caressing his back like a sadistic lover. In his dream he was being lowered into a blazing fire to burn alive, but he was skewered onto a spit and couldn't escape. Above him the white-clad madman laughed gleefully as the flames chewed at his back and the skin charred and peeled, blood dripping from the open wound to hiss on the flames that were slowly engulfing him. While he struggled to escape his death, the mechanical laughter suddenly changed to a frighteningly familiar voice. He knew that man, if only he could just see his face beyond the flames that grew higher and higher, blocking the white sky from view. The fire ate at his body, burning away his soul and demanding the last vestiges of life to leave. Not yet, not like this. Below him a burning figure formed in the flames. Was it Relena? No, it looked like Duo. His sad face looked up at him and his mouth formed words without voice, but Heero could read the message on his lips: "It's not so bad on the other side, Heero." Dead? Duo was dead? No, he had to--!

He awoke from the nightmare with a start. His eyes snapped open to see Trowa's green ones staring back at him. He slowly relaxed his muscles and wiped his head across the pillow to mop the sweat off his face, his neck muscles protesting at the movement. He shivered as the sweat began cooling on his naked torso. "Duo."

"- is sleeping better now." A small smile flitted across Trowa's lips. "He woke for the first time yesterday. It's a good sign."

Heero closed his eyes in relief and grunted his agreement.

"I take it you didn't sleep too well," Trowa's calming voice said. Then he felt something strange, like a slight, soothing pressure. He lifted his head slightly to look over and saw Trowa's hand stroking his wing. It felt oddly good and took away some of the sting, so he decided not to say anything and settled his head back down.

Trowa found himself wondering why Heero wasn't yelling at him to knock it off. Normally the stoic pilot was so hard to approach. Maybe, like Duo said, it did feel nice. Maybe Heero just needed company that badly.

"Trowa." Trowa's hand hesitated at Heero's hoarse voice. "Please, get me some drugs."

"Are you in pain?"

Heero grunted a small laugh. "Not yet, but I will be," he said into his pillow.

Wondering at this, Trowa carefully displaced the limb in hand and left.

Heero looked over at Duo and felt a stab of anguish at seeing him in such obvious distress. Duo never seemed defeated; he was always chattering and just generally moving his mouth too much, making unbearable situations bearable with his lighthearted jokes, but now he seemed so beaten. He hated the flashes he had in his mind's eye of Duo's screams echoing in the empty medical room, his wrists and ankles tearing against the shackles. Now he had tubes coming out of him, an oxygen mask, and an IV drip taped to his hand. He looked like a bomb survivor instead of the fierce Gundam pilot he knew.

Fixing his determination, his arms screamed at him to stop as Heero tore the oxygen tubes from his nose, and then removed the needle from the back of his hand. He stared at his bandaged wrists while he caught his breath, then very slowly began to move his left wing. He let out a sharp gasp as the sore, unused muscles responded, but stubbornly continued anyway. By the time Heero had folded his wing behind his back, he was panting and sweating with exertion. Then he did the same with his other wing, and he bit his lower lip to keep from crying out at the searing agony. He panted, waiting for the pain to subside, but it seemed that wasn't going to happen, so he took it for a victory when he felt both wings nestled softly against his back and brushing down his calves. He tried hard to stay off exhaustion, but he wasn't finished yet and kept going. He pushed up with his arms, this time screaming in agony as his shoulders flexed. He didn't stop moving until he was on his hands and knees, trying desperately to catch his breath and remain conscious.

When Trowa returned he found Heero like this, his head hanging and his chest heaving, the sheet having slithered off of his body and revealing Heero in all of his nudity. He could see his body shaking and his wings trembling from the effort. Now he understood why Heero had said that he would be in pain and wanted something to help deal with it.

Through the rush of blood in his ears, Heero dimly heard Trowa padding over to his bedside, and opened wearily opened his eyes. He couldn't read the other's blank face, but he saw something akin to admiration in his eyes as he offered the pill and water. Heero couldn't spare the energy to talk and was only just containing his shaking to fine tremors. He managed to gasp out, "Trowa," before he lost that bare control over his muscles and began trembling violently, still refusing to let the pain drag him back down to the bed.

Trowa bit the inside of his cheek at seeing his comrade like this. He set down the glass of water, and gently slid his hands under Heero's arms. With great difficulty he helped him to sit upright on his knees and heels. He worried about the other's wings coming in contact with the bed, but with visible and audible effort Heero rearranged them so that the tips crossed and protruded on opposite sides of the bed. He stayed upright only with Trowa's help and sagged greatly against his supporting arms.

"Heero, you're going to kill yourself," Trowa said to Heero's panting figure. Heero didn't respond, using all of his energy to quiet his screaming muscles. Soon he was well enough to look up at Trowa and said, "I can sit on my own now." Trowa slowly removed his hands from Heero's shoulders. He swayed slightly, but remained as he was. Trowa then fed him the pill and water, knowing that he probably was too sore to move his arms anymore for now.

Just then Quatre ran through the doorway. "What's all the commotion?" Then he stopped dead when he saw Heero's quivering body sitting up. "Are you okay? Heero, it's so good to see you awake!" Quatre took a seat next to Trowa and clasped Heero's arm. Pain shot up and down, spreading to the fingertips and shoulder at that gentle touch, and he grit his teeth to keep from making a sound.

Heero looked into Quatre's concerned blue eyes and nodded slightly. "I will be," he croaked. Now that he was sitting still, the pain was beginning to subside, but he knew that he had almost reached the limit of his abilities for the day. Quatre's hand began stroking his wings along with Trowa, and as the gentle touches seemed to massage the pain away, his head sagged lethargically with relief. He thought that maybe he should tell them to quit, but it felt almost therapeutic, and he was in no shape to turn down any reprieve from the burning they could grant him. The slightly chilled are made him aware that he was now without sheets to cover his nudity, but it didn't seem important. He looked across the short distance between the beds at Duo's prone body lying stretched out. For some reason, reaching him, making sure he was okay, seemed like the most important thing in the world right now.

Seeing where he was looking, Quatre and Trowa silently took hold of Heero's arms and helped him off the bed. He hissed as burning muscles were stretched, but he didn't tell them to stop. He shakily put one foot on the floor, then another, glad that at least his legs weren't affected by all this. He stood swaying for a moment, then waved the other two off. They reluctantly let go, but Heero didn't fall. Instead he resolutely put one foot in front of the other and made his slow, agonizing way to Duo's bedside. He kneeled at the edge of Duo's bed and studied the face of the soldier who was somehow always backing him up, protecting the colonies, protecting him. This young boy was willing to sacrifice himself unhesitatingly for the smallest chance of buying Heero a little time to survive, and he wondered why he would do such a thing. He looked peculiarly down at Duo's sleeping face and brushed a hand against his cheek, careful not to disturb the oxygen tube, and noticed that his skin was gradually regaining its color. A small smile and a sigh crossed Duo's lips, and his face looked less tortured. Remembering how relaxing it felt to have his own wings stroked, he ignored the pain of lifting his arms and moved his hands down to the velvety softness, gently rubbing the smooth leather. Duo's face eased in pleasure, and Heero felt an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Deciding that they didn't need to be present for this, Trowa and Quatre quietly left the room, leaving the two boys alone. They shut the door softly behind them and stood together in the hallway.

"I wonder if they even know they're in love," mused Quatre, leaning in to Trowa. "It's so obvious to everyone else, but you know how thick-headed they can be."

With a small chuckle, Trowa hooked his arm around Quatre's waist and started them off down the hallway. "They know it, but they haven't put a name to it." They leaned against each other as they made off, comforting each other with their touch. "Come on, let's go find something to eat and then see if Wufei's back yet."

Upstairs, Wufei sat at the computer in his closed room and popped in the disc he had retrieved from the base. He waited impatiently for the data to appear, and quickly began rifling through it, looking for any relevant information. In little time he hacked his way into a file concerning the purpose of this experiment and scoffed at their overconfidence for encoding sensitive material so poorly. Wufei leered in disgust as he skimmed it, rambling on about using soldiers that could fly in battle. It was an incredibly stupid idea, and certainly not worth all the pain that his friends had undergone. He then opened a file containing data on the researchers and scientists. His blood boiled as he read through each and every name. He would kill them all. There was one name that seemed to be missing, or it could have been so hidden under encoding so difficult that it would take some serious effort to crack.

His curiosity was piqued when he came across a video clip. When he opened it he was left in shock. It was obvious from the camera's perspective that it was done inside the information room he had blown up earlier. Through the one-way window he could see Heero and Duo suspended naked from chains in the ceiling. "Shit." His skin went cold as he realized it was the same room that he had seen so blood spattered. At the bottom of the screen were two separate readouts, monitoring the boys. As he was watching he thought he saw a blip in Heero's readout, but it immediately went back to normal. He saw no reaction from his still form, either. Then Duo woke up. His heartbeat sped up and his adrenaline level skyrocketed. He saw him mouthing something and turned on the volume.

". . . if you're gonna molest us, hurry up and do it so I can put my clothes back on. I'm cold!" he was saying. Wufei snorted. Typical Duo, always mouthing off when the situation got rough.

He continued to watch in morbid fascination as an obscure man came in with a cart. He listened attentively to his sadistic little conversation with the two pilots and flinched in sympathy when the needle was twisted inside Duo's leg. He was surprised to see that Heero's eyes were open when his readings still said that he was unconscious. "Very talented, Heero. You must teach me that trick." Then his fascination turned to disgust as the white figure shamelessly fondled Heero, then to horror after the doctor left the room.

He saw Heero break out in a sweat, panting as he pulled at his chains. Duo was absolutely terrified. Then they both began screaming. Bright red blood poured from their shoulders as the sounds of bones popping and wet skin ripping filled the room. Their heads rolled madly with pain. Then the screaming reached a new height as limbs emerged from their shoulders.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." Wufei thought he was going to be sick. He wanted nothing more than to stop the video and burn it right then, but if his friends could live through this, then he could stand to witness it. He watched in grim terror as the blood spurted all over the room. He was amazed that their hearts hadn't failed, and their blood pressure was dropping rapidly. Then, when the limbs finally stopped growing, the screaming came to an end and the two pilots sagged in their chains. The readouts showed that they were unconscious and quickly making their way toward death.

He leaned back in his chair with relief, glad that it was over. Shakily he stood up and made his way out the door to the bathroom downstairs. On his way there he passed Quatre, who tried to stop him and ask him what was wrong. Wufei shoved him out of his way and ran. He leaned over the toilet bowl just in time as he vomited, and Quatre was at his side with a washcloth and towel before he knew it, helping him to clean up.

He was embarrassed that he had thrown up. It wasn't something he did often and certainly never in front of his comrades. He looked up into Quatre's concerned face, then back down. The horror of what he had seen flashed through his mind again, and this time he had the dry heaves, nothing left in his stomach to throw back up.

Now Quatre was seriously worried. Throwing up once was one thing, but twice . . . "Wufei, what is it?" he asked quietly. The Chinese pilot looked into his eyes and the blond saw the terror flash in them.

"My mission," Wufei said hoarsely, grimacing at the bitter taste in his mouth. "I went back to the base and took all the files. They . . . They recorded it. All of it." He didn't try to stop the tremble in his spine. His master had trained him to withstand traditional torture methods, but witnessing this caliber of atrocity was altogether different.

The blood drained out of Quatre's face as he immediately realized what he was talking about. No. He didn't want to see it. He couldn't handle it. But he knew he would, and so would Trowa. He opened his mouth to ask, but Wufei just nodded before he could say anything.

"Get Trowa. I'll prepare the video." With that Wufei left to his room upstairs, and Quatre went to the kitchen to get the other pilot.

Minutes later, Quatre and Trowa emerged from Wufei's room to the hallway where the Chinese pilot waited, choosing not to watch the clip again. They refused to look at each other and stared at the ground in mute horror, trying to cope with everything they had seen. How could their friends have survived it? How could they live with the memories? But Quatre thought he already knew the answer: they had each other. That's how they could keep going on. It was a shame the two didn't quite realize it yet.

_Transmission Interrupted_

Duo slowly awoke as through drifting through a dense fog of tranquilizers. Feeling the need to scratch at something that was tickling his back, he reflexively moved his arm to remedy the problem and was quickly rewarded with a stab of pain. His eyes snapped open in shock as the memories of everything that had happened rushed back to him in a terrible flood, and he shook his head to clear the visions, taking deep, labored breaths. He blinked rapidly, wondering if he was still dreaming, because what he saw left him puzzled and confused.

Heero had somehow crawled into the giant bed with him, both of them naked under the covers. Partially covered by his messy brown hair, his face was serene and peaceful as he draped one feathered wing over Duo's back and one over the side of the bed. Duo had never seen the normally aggressive and violent boy look so tranquil and so unlike a highly trained assassin. Not wanting to disturb him, he decided he could live with a little tickling if it meant he could take this rare opportunity to watch him like this for a little while. He could figure out how Heero had gotten over here, knowing the persistence and endurance of the perfect soldier, but not why. He wondered what had put that look on his face. Maybe some really good drugs. Maybe he got off on being naked in bed with another guy. He laughed quietly to himself and immediately regretted moving his chest for that small motion. Nah, had to be the drugs.

He paused at that thought. So what if Heero was into guys? Did that mean he was into him? He realized that Heero's face looked almost happy, and he thought that's how he would have looked if this war hadn't come to them. Heero was probably just feeling lonely and vulnerable and in need of companionship. He wondered if Heero had ever had a friend before, much less knew what it meant to be in love or gay. Only a short while ago he thought that there was no way this hard ass killing machine could have feelings like friendship or love, but he also never thought this expression on his face was possible, either. He shrugged mentally. "Hell, if sleeping in my bed floats his boat, then fine by me," he thought. Besides, theirs was a purely by-the-numbers working relationship, nothing more.

But he knew that wasn't true. Not only did they defy death together nearly every day, but they also helped each other when they were injured and tended to each other's wounds. Duo remembered a time when he had been knocked unconscious inside an OZ military base when on a mission with Heero. When he awoke, he was in a dark room with Heero, who was wiping a cloth across his forehead and softly murmuring words in some foreign language. He couldn't recall feeling such a gentle touch in a long time, or feeling so sheltered. Partners or not, they fought harder when they were protecting each other. Strange that he had never realized it before.

"Well, maybe it is something more," Duo tried admitting to himself. "Yeah, like best pals. War buddies." Braving the pain he pulled out the oxygen tubes and hesitantly reached out to touch the other boy's surprisingly soft hair, smoothing it from his face. He was beautiful like this, looking so innocent. If only they weren't needed in this war so he could look this way all the time. And that was when it hit him that theirs was more than just a working relationship. "Whoa whoa whoa, back up a sec. I don't even _like _him that way. Besides, it's way too dangerous for us to be together like that right now." He blinked. He thought he'd just admitted that if it were any other time, it would be okay to--

"Best buds. Definitely." It was just good fortune that his friend was very attractive, possibly into him, and sharing his bed, he decided. But with a smirk Duo looked back at all the times he had seen Heero walk out of the shower in nothing but his birthday suit, his dark hair dripping water down his back and chest in rivulets that accentuated his perfect musculature. He chuckled then and sighed contentedly, reaching his hand out to rest on Heero's arm. His sexy best friend. Maybe he could hook him up with that Relena chick or something.

Duo fell asleep that way, listening to Heero's deep, regular breathing and admiring his peaceful features. He almost wished this would never end.

_End Transmission_


	4. The Will to Rise

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its affiliated trademarks.

Author's note: Heero and Duo were experimented on and now they have to try to move on. 1+2. 3+4. Language. Sap. TWT. Pain, but if you got through the first three chapters, you'll be able to handle this. Constructive criticism is welcome. Edited 05/09/07.

**Chapter Four, The Will to Rise**

Heero struggled his way down the hallway towards the kitchen, grimacing at every slight touch to his overly sensitive shoulders. His wings were carefully folded behind him, and he painfully kept them slightly elevated to prevent them from brushing against the floor as he walked. He braced a hand against the wall for support, not quite trusting his own body yet to do what he asked.

Three pairs of eyes looked up in surprise as a topless Heero staggered into the kitchen area, heading straight for the rusted, steel bar stool to seat himself. With a deep, shuddering breath he settled onto the stool and put his elbows on the cool counter, his hands in his hair. He slowly let his muscles relax and his wings droop gently to the floor as his shoulders sagged, his body going slack. He combed his fingers through his hair as he closed his eyes, getting his breathing under control.

His nightmares had subsided, and he had woken up peacefully in the morning, only to find himself naked as the day he was born in Duo's bed and suspiciously alone. Their arms, legs, and wings were casually entangled, looking like two lovers embracing, and Duo's head was on his shoulder, his chestnut braid tickling his skin. Heero stiffened in surprise, too shocked to move a muscle. Then he remembered when he had struggled over here, facing pain that threatened to make him black out, just to check on Duo. Why? He had wanted so badly to comfort him and found that he had used up too much of his strength to make it back to his own bed. Too exhausted to make the journey back, he decided to simply crawl into the closest bed with Duo. He could explain when he woke up, but that thought was quickly forgotten as he fell quickly to the most peaceful sleep he could remember.

He recalled the emotions that had seemed to overtake him, the previous night, bubbling out from a spring that he hadn't known was there. He had always believed in following his emotions, and he held true to that, even if he didn't think he had any to act on. But, still, he didn't understand these ones. What was it that made him so concerned for this fellow soldier, no, young man in his arms? What was it that he felt when he gazed at him, sleeping so contently? Duo always insisted that they were friends, so was this the feeling that Duo called friendship? He didn't think that entailed such close contact, so maybe Duo's definition was flawed.

He shook his head slightly, trying to clear it of confusion, and decided to extricate himself from the situation. He gently moved Duo's limbs off of him, watching the other boy's face carefully for traces of pain and stopping when he saw his features scrunch up in discomfort. After several minutes he disentangled their bodies, and he made the arduous effort of sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. It hurt like hell, but not nearly as badly as before. Heero distantly wondered how long they'd been asleep like that, but the thought was quickly banished when his stomach contracted angrily, voicing its demand for food. He thought it might wake up Duo with its intensity.

He slowly stood and padded over the cold linoleum floor, making for the broken metal dresser on the opposite side of the room. He opened the top drawer of the old, squeaky dresser, wheels groaning as its unused joints scraped against each other, and was rewarded with the sight of his very few possessions. His usual black Spandex shorts and green tank top, ideal for missions where clothing might become an obstruction, were folded very neatly alongside a pair of jeans, a white button-up shirt, and two pairs of heavy-duty socks. They had probably stashed his weapons in a more secretive place. He contemplated for a moment before deciding that the zipper on the jeans would provide optimal ease later on and pulled out some socks as well, then slowly closed the drawer again, trying to prevent it from squeaking and waking Duo. He didn't want to confront him with his thoughts so jumbled and clouded at the moment.

Heero found that putting on clothes was a very painful task and hissed as he balanced on one leg to bend over to put on his sock, then repeated the process with his other foot. At least his legs were in better condition than the rest of him. The jeans required just as much bending over and even more pulling, putting a strain on his abused shoulder and upper back muscles. While buttoning up the jeans, he briefly considered attempting to put on his tank top, but quickly dispelled that idea. It would be somewhat difficult to put it on over his wings, and he wasn't willing to endure any unnecessary pain just yet. So he quietly opened the door, taking a last, thoughtful look at his sleeping comrade, and with difficulty held his wings tight to his back as he went through the doorway.

"Are you hungry?"

"Huh?" Heero looked up from his reverie, finding a smiling Quatre standing across the bar from him and holding a plate of food.

"I said, are you hungry, Heero?" the blond pilot repeated.

Heero's mouth watered as he looked at the plate filled with pancakes, sausages, eggs, and hash browns. His usual fare consisted of nutritious supplement bars and vitamin water, but his stomach didn't care whether it was the most nutritious food or not. He couldn't remember when he'd eaten last, so he nodded his hunger, and Quatre promptly set the plate in front of him, then retrieved a fork, knife and napkin for him. As soon as he had hold of the fork, he disregarded the knife and napkin, focused only on his food.

The others watched in baffled amusement as Heero dug in and ate like he'd been starved for a week, which they supposed he had. As Trowa watched the brunette shovel in food like there was no tomorrow, a small smile graced his lips. He reclined further into his rickety chair at the kitchen table, relaxing now that he knew Heero was getting much better. He knew this from experience, when Heero had self-destructed in Siberia and Trowa had picked him up, thinking him dead. Much to his surprise, the stubborn pilot had survived, and when he started healing in earnest he ate voraciously, eating just about everything in sight, including Cathy's onion broth that was so thin it could have been water. Trowa smiled at the memories of better times on Earth, then continued reading his book, occasionally sipping coffee from his chipped mug.

Satisfied, Quatre smirked and went back to the stove, pouring batter and flipping more pancakes for the rest of them. On another skillet were the shreds of potato that were being fried into hash browns, and another covered pan held the sausages that were cooking in their own juices. The delicious smells and tantalizing sounds set all their stomachs to growling in anticipation. "Where did you get all this wonderful food, Trowa?"

He looked up from his reading. "OZ supply convoy," he said with a hint of satisfaction. "Don't worry, it was nowhere close to here, so they can't trace us back to this colony. And there was enough food to give to the colonists, as well." They shared a smile with each other, then Quatre turned back to the cooking.

Wufei, sitting at the table across from Trowa, was still staring at the normally reserved comrade who had suddenly transformed from a trained soldier to a machine with one goal - to shove as much food in his mouth as possible before choking. He gave a small laugh of incredulity as Heero's whole body seemed to come alive from the intake of solid food. "Well, if Yuy's feeling well enough to eat a horse, Maxwell shouldn't be much worse. I bet he'll eat us out of house and home by tomorrow."

Wufei had meant for that comment to help lighten the mood, but no one failed to notice how Heero's hand slowed and his eyes narrowed and unfocused for a second. "Hn," he muttered noncommittally. The three pilots exchanged glances.

Trowa took a sip of coffee and set his mug back down before trying to ask nonchalantly, "So Heero, how is Duo? Still sleeping?"

Heero replied with a brusque, "Yeah." It was normal for him to be substantially less than chatty when he wasn't discussing a mission, but there was something different with his demeanor as he said it. His shoulders hunched defensively, making it clear he wasn't open to discussing the topic of Duo.

"With you two healing so quickly, we should be able to make it to the Earth soon," Trowa added. This time Heero stopped eating entirely, and he could see in the Wing pilot's eyes his mind turning to thoughts of war and missions, and probably their last failed mission.

Pretending not to notice the change in mood, Quatre poured a glass of milk for Heero before setting a plate full of breakfast in front of the other two. He grabbed napkins and silverware for all of them, then prepared one more plate. He set this one on a makeshift tray and announced, "I'm going to go see if Duo's feeling up to some solid food. Be right back." Then he padded down the hallway, leaving the three in silence.

All that could be heard was silverware clanking against the plates and food being cut, chewed and swallowed. Everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts, but the silence between them was not an easy one. They all knew it was because they needed to discuss what had happened and what to do next, but no one wanted to start that particular conversation. The three of them held to an unspoken agreement to wait until Quatre returned.

When they had all cleaned off the plates and drained their glasses, Trowa stood to take their plates to the sink and rinse them off. Heero and Wufei both muttered their thanks before returning to their private thoughts. Another five minutes later, Quatre returned empty handed. Duo must have been awake and hungry. The other pilots were all seated and brooding, the silence no longer uncomfortable, rather, but indifferent. Heero felt his head drooping as he realized he was still painfully exhausted. He frowned and shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the traces of sedatives and stay awake.

Quatre pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and seated himself close to Trowa. He silently observed them all for a minute and realized none of them was going to be the first to speak. Deciding offense was the best course of action, he cleared his throat loudly. "Heero," he began hesitantly. The Japanese pilot looked up from where he had been staring blankly at the countertop. "Do you have any idea who, or why, or . . .?" He waved his hands ineffectually, trying to grasp the question he wanted to ask. "What do you remember that might help us?"

Immediately images of pain and blood flooded Heero's mind. There was so much of it. He heard deafening screams and realized they were being torn from his own throat, as well as Duo's. The world was tinted red with searing agony, laced with white-hot pain at the edges. Heero's body quivered involuntarily as his hands desperately choked each other. He was brought back to reality when he felt a warm, comforting hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Quatre standing beside him, offering him an encouraging smile. Heero quickly chased away the memories and chided himself. He'd been tortured before. He just needed to block those particular images and focus on the fine details, ignoring the larger picture. With a deep, calming breath he steadied his nerves and tried again. Resolutely he blocked the images that threatened to break his defenses and overwhelm him, calling on his training to protect him from the side effects of torture for a while. Heero's lips tightened as he thought about it, trying to sift out anything meaningful from the nightmares in his mind. He realized with a start that he had purposely avoided reflecting on what had happened. Maybe it was his brain's way of telling him that it was too traumatizing to think about at this time. Hn. He ignored his mental barriers and looked at those memories anyway.

A man covered head to toe in scrubs, chains, needles, silvery serum. Duo, hanging helpless and naked across from him, goose bumps running along his flesh as the cold air chilled the sweat of fear on him. No, no, he had to focus. He concentrated on the image of the short, probably old doctor. He remembered that a scrambling device had distorted his voice, which meant they didn't want to chance him being recognized. There was something naggingly familiar about that man, but he couldn't place it. The scientist must have been very high ranking and well trusted to be given such detailed information about a Gundam pilot, much less two. He considered the serum that he had made himself commit to memory, the way it swayed viscously in the vial like silver death and entered the veins like burning ice. He thought he could identify it if he saw it again.

Finally, after several minutes of consideration, Heero answered Quatre's question. "No, I don't know exactly who it might have been. An older male, high ranking officer, too intelligent to be considered safe, even for OZ." He was a little surprised when he heard his voice come out hoarse, as though he'd been shouting only a few minutes ago. Quatre's warm hand moved in a small circle around his shoulder, then went to a wing, gently stroking it. Heero sighed as the tension and pain was massaged away. Damn it, what was wrong with him? Tell him to stop, just tell him you don't need him, don't need their help. "We can start running a check on paid medical volunteers," he continued, "see if there's a trail to follow. He said they went through a lot of them. He never mentioned his purpose."

Trowa stood and across the bar from Quatre and Heero, concerned about their comrade's welfare. Even though Heero wore the blank, unreadable face he took into battle, at any other time he wouldn't let anyone touch him. It wasn't often that their stoic friend showed any kind of distress, and now seeing it displayed in his actions was worrisome. He turned as he heard a chair scrape against the tiled kitchen floor and saw Wufei stand up angrily.

"We already know that!" he yelled furiously. He stormed up the stairs and they heard his door opening, the slamming of drawers and papers being rifled through, then his angry footsteps heading back downstairs. Wufei strode directly up to Heero and shoved the papers angrily in his face. "This," he said, looking him in the eye, "is OZ's explanation of why." It was apparent that it took all of his self-control not to tear the papers apart and spit on them in disgust. As soon as Heero reached up to take them from him he fisted his hands at his side and started pacing.

Heero braced himself and called on his training once more to get him through this, giving a silent thanks to Dr. J. He skimmed over the first page of governmental red tape, protocol, and noted contributions, his face not showing anything. He turned the pages and read like lightning, absorbing all the data into his eidetic memory and blocking any emotions that might obscure the facts. When he had finished reading he set the papers calmly onto the counter, folded his hands on the countertop, and then let the data filter into his consciousness.

"Security Level - (1) BIGOT . . . Experiment Course Alpha, J G34e . . . This medical experiment is to be executed for the purpose of furthering advances in human warfare and to perfect the human body. No longer will we be dependent on the production of mobile suits and the enormous resources required to produce and maintain wartime machines . . . Soldiers with the ability to fly, without the aid of machinery, are the future of mankind on the battlefield. The hopeful result is the growth of biological wings capable of lifting a human body and additional weight in flight . . . This experiment may be highly detrimental to the test subject's health and may result in death. To ensure greater chances of success the test subject must be in excellent physical condition, and preferably be expendable . . ."

Heero felt a spark of anger catch fire deep in his belly and did nothing to squelch it, but instead fed it, wanting it, letting it burn away his feeling of victimization. He let it smolder and grow until he thought it would boil over and consume his entire being. He realized that he felt pain in his hands, and when he looked down he saw the mangled remains of the counter edge crushed in his hands. Instead of lashing out and breaking anything he could get his hands on like he wanted to, he forced himself to let go and to turn the heat of anger into a cool, calculated wind that blew through his mind. He filled himself with ice and fire, like a deadly storm heavy with the promise of killing. Oh, how he wanted to kill. His hands gripped each other tightly until he knew they would bruise.

When he finally looked up from his thoughts his friends recoiled from the smoldering, icy fire in his eyes. It was the certain promise of death, and no one could stand in the way of his revenge. _Preferably be expendable. . . _"Who were they?" Heero asked slowly. None of them made a move to answer. "Who were they?" he growled more forcefully.

Wufei responded. "There's a list of people involved; researchers, founders, scientists, government officials. The only name missing is the one who performed the experiment. He apparently played a large part in developing the chemicals, too." He paused for a moment, wary of being a target for his anger. "Heero, I want you to make me a promise." He waited until the other's intense glare found his, then said quietly, "Leave some of them for the rest of us."

Heero gaze was difficult to meet, but each returned nothing less than the determined, merciless looks of trained assassins. He nodded curtly. They would get their revenge. And someone was going to die a very, very painful death.

"Did you get that, Duo?" Trowa called out loudly.

They heard a muffled cheer from down the hallway.

_End Transmission_

(1) BIGOT - code name for a security level beyond Top Secret (source: National Geographic, June 2002)


	5. Confusion

Disclaimer: (weeps) I don't own Gundam Wing! (sob) Whatever shall I do?! (plops down in the growing puddle of tears)  
  
Summary: Heero and Duo were experimented on. Now they want their revenge, but first they have to take care of some things. 1+2. 3+4. Language. Sap. TWT. (hammers a sign to a post that reads: ) Wanted: Comments of all shapes and sizes, flavors and types! ^__^  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Chapter Five, Confusion  
  
Heero softly opened the door to his shared room, ready to retire since he had exhausted himself that day, refusing to let his comrades do all the work. They'd been busy locating each of the people on the list, and also trying to find Doctor J and the others. Heero knew Doctor J to be very well versed in genetics, as he had played guinea pig for him many times before. He should be able to help them with their . . . predicament.  
  
He halted inside the doorframe as he looked over to the bed where Duo lay sprawled out on his side, breathing deep and regularly in his sleep. Heero watched transfixed as his chest gently rose and fell with his quiet breathing, then silently padded over to him and stood beside his bed to gaze down at his sleeping face. His eyes traced the sweep of his eyebrow, the curve of his cheekbone, the swell of his slightly parted lips. He let his gaze wander over the expanse of his well-toned chest, uncovered by the slipping sheets. //Damn, what's wrong with me?// He shook his head, tearing his eyes away from the sight before him, and tried to turn away, but his glance snagged upon Duo's wings. The velvety black folds were stretched languidly out behind him, and even though he knew they didn't belong there they looked completely natural, like they had always been a part of him. Strangely enough it added to the allure of Duo's beauty.  
  
Tentatively he reached a hand out, wanting to feel Duo's soft skin under his callused fingers, then hesitated a few inches from his cheek in uncertainty. //No. I don't have any right to touch him. It's not . . . I'm not . . .// Finally he gave up trying to explain his reluctance and sighed heavily, deeply confused by what he was feeling. He reached down to take hold of the sheet that had slipped to Duo's waist and pulled it gently back up to his shoulders.  
  
He eventually turned around from his vigil and went to his own bed. Moving carefully so as not to cause himself any more pain than was necessary, he leaned over to pull of his socks, then unzipped his pants and kicked them off, leaving him naked. He pulled the white sheets aside, laid on his stomach, and unfolded the wings that had cramped up from staying in the same position all day. He gritted his teeth as sore, stiff muscles protested. When they were spread to either side of him, he worked to pull the sheet up to his waist, then sighed in surrender as he slowly relaxed his muscles, and finally turned his face towards Duo, watching it by the dim light that streamed in through the open door.  
  
It didn't take long for him to fall into an exhausted slumber, and his dreams were of a certain braided pilot and himself. And of all the strangest things, they were happy.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Duo awoke with barely more than a hitch in his breathing as he heard a door opening and feigned sleep while he waited for something to happen, thinking that it might be an enemy. When he heard the soft padding of feet over carpet, he opened his eyes just enough to see the glimmer of light through the doorway silhouetting a winged male figure in the dark of the room. He struggled to maintain his breathing pattern as he realized with a start that it was Heero. But why was he just staring at him like that? He didn't dare to open his eyes any further and alert him that he was awake. Not when Heero was in something that could be a compromising position for him. Then he started reaching for his face. //Oh shit, is he gonna touch me?// he thought as a jolt of electricity ran through him, a mix of fear and eager anticipation. He was slightly relieved yet disappointed that Heero's hand never completed its journey, and he puzzled at the strange mix of emotions. Surely Heero could tell that he wasn't asleep, since his heart was pounding so hard, but apparently his inhuman hearing didn't pick up the sound. He felt the sheet being pulled softly back up his body, then watched as Heero turned toward his own bed and started stripping in the dim lighting.  
  
Duo found himself transfixed as Heero bent down to pull the socks off his feet with his back turned to him. This gave him a very nice view of his butt, only slightly obstructed by the angelic wings protruding from his shoulders. He couldn't help but widen his eyes just a bit as he heard the unzipping of a fly. Heero's hands slid to the waist of his pants and gave a push, slipping the jeans down around his hips, then his rear, down his thighs, till they puddled at his feet and were kicked off. Duo's mouth dried. //Hot damn, I should have known he goes commando. Oh, wow.// He was hypnotized as he watched the muscles flex in Heero's firm backside as he climbed into bed, and found himself wishing that he'd turn around. He caught himself just in time to shut his eyes most of the way as Heero settled himself in and turned his head toward him. It was in no time at all that his breathing deepened and he was asleep.  
  
//Yep, you've got it bad, Duo Maxwell. I wonder if this is just physical. I mean, sure, all of the guys a pretty good looking. But then, if that's the case then why aren't I attracted to Trowa? He's just as quiet as Heero, and taller, too.// He paused at this and ran it through his head again. //Huh. I must really be gay.// He thought that maybe he should be disturbed by this, but then he found himself asking, //Is that really so bad?// He couldn't think of any answer to this, so he let the question slip from his mind.  
  
When he was certain that Heero was as deeply asleep as the trained assassin ever got, he moved the covers off of himself and sat up. His first thought was that he wanted a shower, but that idea was very quickly dismissed when he tried to stretch his arms. Uh uh, no way was he going to be able to wash out his long hair when he could barely rotate his shoulders. He smirked, thinking that maybe he'd wait till Heero was awake to help him, then sobered as he thought about that, gazing over at Heero's peaceful face. //Maybe he feels something for me, too. Maybe, just maybe.// Duo grinned wickedly and his mood lightened as he formulated a plan to get the two of them in the shower together. //Gotta take the initiative and sort things out. And it gives me an excuse to see the front side of him naked.// He risked waking Heero and chuckled softly to himself.  
  
He decided that since he couldn't shower, he would eat, 'cause damn, he was starving. With an inaudible moan he stood up, using muscles in his legs and back that hadn't been moved in too long. Curious, he looked over his shoulder at the wings folded behind his back, and very slowly tried stretching them out. He clenched his teeth and held his elbows tightly, bracing himself against the pain from sore muscles that had never before been used. His wings shook from the effort, but he kept pushing himself, spreading them as wide as he could, and finally stopped when he could bear it no more. Through the haze of pain he stared in wonderment at the expanse of velvet-covered leather that blocked the light coming in through the half- open door. Almost without thinking about it he reached out to touch one. One arm wrapped itself around his waist as the other trembling hand tried to touch the wingtip. It was too long a stretch; his hand only came halfway at best.  
  
With a shuddering sigh Duo let his hand fall back to his side and his wings collapse. He looked over at Heero, whose wings were sprawled out over the sides of the bed. The weak light dimly framed his face, and his white wings seemed to glow. //Damn,// he thought. //This is just too strange.// As Duo stood there, he hung his head in resignation. //Ah, shit.//  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"First these creepy things on my back, then _him_, could things get any weirder?" Duo muttered to himself as he lumbered into the kitchen in nothing but his black boxers. It hurt just to think about putting on any more clothes.  
  
Duo put a hand on the doorframe of the kitchen and leaned against it, trying to catch his breath. When he looked up he froze at the familiar face that greeted him. "Trowa," he said dumbfounded. "What are you doing up so late?"  
  
The tall brunette made no move to get up from his seat at the kitchen table and set down his mug of coffee as he asked, "Are you hungry?"  
  
Duo frowned, but nodded. "Yeah, I'm starving."  
  
The corners of Trowa's lips lifted slightly in a small smile. He stood up and went to open the fridge, bending at the waist as he rummaged through the shelves. "What do you want?" he asked over his shoulder.  
  
"Anything that's not fuzzy and green," Duo called. He stumbled over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair for himself, sighing in relief as he sat and let his wings fall limply. It felt so good to just let his face lay on the table, his arms dangling loosely at his sides and his braid tickling down his back. The hardwood floor was cold under his bare feet, and with a slight shock he realized that the parts of his wings that rested on the floor were cold, too. Ah well. It felt good on the burning pain of his new muscles. He listened to Trowa shuffling around the kitchen, slamming cupboards, clanking dishes, pushing buttons on the microwave, and finally resuming his seat at the table opposite the injured pilot.  
  
Duo looked up groggily, meeting Trowa's gaze. He groaned as he rested his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands. "So, what happened to my Gundam?"  
  
"Wufei, Quatre and I recovered Deathscythe and Wing Zero from the OZ base where you were held," he responded quietly.  
  
Duo waited for more. "Well?" he prompted. "Where is it? What condition is it in? Answers here, Trowa, answers." He snapped his fingers as he said this, trying to get Trowa to respond.  
  
"No, I don't think so. If I were to tell you, you'd only worry about your mobile suit and try to get to it. You need to concentrate on yourself, not your Gundam."  
  
Duo growled in aggravation and tugged on his braid, his wings giving a weak flutter. "Urrrgh, you are so frustrating sometimes."  
  
Trowa gave a small, affectionate smile and stood to retrieve Duo's food as the microwave beeped. Duo's stomach grumbled and his nose perked up at the delicious smell that wafted from Trowa's direction. When the unibanged pilot turned around, he presented a plate of fried chicken to him, along with several napkins in the other hand. Duo immediately grabbed a leg of chicken as soon as the plate was set down and all thoughts of his Gundam were erased as he reveled in the taste of grease, salt and poultry.  
  
Trowa looked on in amusement as he sat back down and folded his hands in his lap. After a while he said, "We've been locating all of the people involved in the experiment that was performed on you and Heero." Duo's eating slowed and his eyes gleamed dangerously as he received this bit of information. "We've also been trying to find the scientists that trained us, particularly Doctor J, Heero's instructor. He's highly skilled in genetic manipulation."  
  
Duo grunted thoughtfully, then wiped at the grease that was dribbling down his chin with a napkin. "Any luck yet?"  
  
"No. I was taking a break from searching for them when you woke up. Do you need anything else?"  
  
The braided pilot licked his fingers as he finished cleaning off the bones of his chicken. "Yeah, a glass of milk would be nice." Trowa stood to comply and retrieved a carton from the fridge and a glass from the cupboard, setting it on the table with a clank and pouring the last drop of milk into it.  
  
Duo took a deep swallow, then paused, trying to decide whether to ask his next question or not. //Oh, hell, who better to ask than Trowa? At least I know he won't blab to anyone.// "Um, Tro'? Uhh, what's it like to be gay?" he rushed out. He closed his eyes and braced for the derision he was sure would be flung at him.  
  
When he didn't hear the expected laugh or angry shout, he peeped an eye open to see Trowa seriously considering his question. Finally the other boy responded, "I don't understand what it is you're asking."  
  
"Um, well, you know, like why you're attracted to Quatre and what . . . what the, uh, sex is like?" He blushed furiously and broke eye contact as he asked this.  
  
When he looked back up he found Trowa silently watching him, as though somehow reading what was in his mind. He tilted his head to one side thoughtfully. "I love Quatre because of his personality, and . . . because of the way that he makes me feel. The fact that he's male is only secondary."  
  
"You mean that you don't care about the packaging?" Duo asked incredulously.  
  
"No, that's not it at all. What I'm trying to say is that I love him for who he is, and the fact that I like his body is just the icing on the cake."  
  
"Oh. Okay. So, umm, how _does_ Quatre makes you feel?"  
  
Trowa considered for a minute. "He makes me feel . . . complete, happy to be alive, like there is no war. I . . ." His hands fluttered uselessly, trying to grasp onto some intangible idea. "I don't know how else to put it. Sorry."  
  
Duo was just glad that Trowa didn't ask why he wanted to know. "No problem, but thanks anyway." He stared at his hands lying on the table, trying to digest this and apply it to himself. Well, how did he even know if he was gay or not? If he wasn't, then he'd just embarrassed himself for no good reason; but if he was . . . Hell, he was so confused he couldn't even begin to piece together his feelings for Heero.  
  
Trowa respectfully waited for a few minutes while Duo thought. He understood why Duo was asking, but he didn't say anything about it. "Duo." The braided boy looked up from his reverie. "You wanted to know about the mechanics of gay sex?"  
  
Duo's mouth dropped and his eyes bugged out. //Why don't I just keel over and die right now to get it over with?// What had he gotten himself into this time?  
  
End Chapter Five.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Author's Note: Well, what'dya think? Don't feel too disappointed, there are more awkward moments coming up next chapter! (grins evilly) Oh, how I love being cruel and unusual. ^__^ Be sure to send in your comments, even if they're not very nice.  
  
Post Script: A special thanks to my beta readers, guardiankrystal26 and fallenangel1816, who have stuck with me and given me death threats to finish this story. ^__^ And, to everyone who has reviewed, I really do appreciate it, and I can't tell you how good it is to know that what I'm writing is actually being read. (throws kisses to everybody) 


	6. Working Things Out

Disclaimer: It's probably a good thing that I don't own Gundam Wing, 'cause just look at how mean I am to my favorite G-boys. (gestures to the story) But I can still dream about it. Sigh.  
  
Summary: After being experimented on, Heero and Duo have a few things to work out. 1+2. 3+4. Language. Sap. TWT. Comments are desperately wanted. ^__^  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Chapter Six, Working Things Out  
  
Duo pleasantly awoke from his slumber with a loud yawn, stretching his arms above his head and extending his toes as far as they could go. He winced slightly when his wings spread wide in reflex, but it was a distant cry from what the pain had been before. When he opened his eyes to the bright morning light streaming in through the bedroom window, he found the white sheets balled up at his feet where he'd kicked them while he slept. For modesty's sake, he was glad he'd worn his boxers to sleep. With a tired smile Duo moved his leg, shoving the wad the rest of the way onto the floor to land with a satisfying thump.  
  
When he turned over onto his side, he saw the sheets on Heero's vacated bed tucked so tightly under the mattress that he couldn't have pulled up a single square inch if he'd tried pinching it. Duo sat up, briefly wondering why Heero clung to military protocol when they were all alone. He stood and picked up the bundle on the floor, then flung it back onto the bed in his version of tidying up, figuring that his bed was now made. With his wings nestled comfortably behind his back, he made his way downstairs on his search for Heero.  
  
His first thought was that he'd be in the kitchen eating breakfast (okay, maybe it was his stomach's first thought). Duo poked his head around the corner of the doorframe, but saw no one sitting at the wood table. He frowned and continued down the hallway, looking in the living room, the bathroom, even Wufei's vacant room. With an exasperated sigh Duo finally turned the handle of the door that led down to the basement and made his way down the shaky, dilapidated wood stairs while clutching the handrail in a death grip. //Damn, someone needs to fix these. Maybe I'll do that later.// His descent wasn't quiet, so if someone was down there it'd give them enough time to yell at him to go away. Or shoot him, if you wanted to be pessimistic.  
  
"Yo, Heero, you down here?" he called. He heard the clank of metal and a small grunt of acknowledgement. "Okay, I'm comin' down!" He took the final steps off of the stairs and turned the corner, then stopped in his tracks, dumbfounded by what he saw.  
  
Sure, he hadn't known what to expect, but this . . . //Yep, this could definitely give me some . . . pleasant dreams.// Heero was lying on his back on a bench clad only in his Spandex shorts, his knees toward Duo and his feet planted firmly on the ground as he lifted a weighted bar, his muscles straining taut as his arms stretched and contracted. His whole abdomen tightened with the effort and his chest rippled alluringly as a fine sheen of sweat covered him. The beautiful white wings were held rigidly out beside him, as involved in the work out as any other part of his body.  
  
Duo snapped his mouth shut when he realized he'd been gaping for far too long. He watched in stunned silence as Heero gave one last push, then settled the bar onto a catch above his head. He sat upright to look in Duo's direction, with his arms and wings hanging limply at his sides.  
  
Duo, uncomfortable in the silence, thought that maybe he should say something. "So, umm, what're ya doin'?"  
  
Heero cocked an eyebrow at him. "Getting ready for our next mission." He stood to grab a towel that Duo hadn't seen lying on a stool across from him. He mopped up the sweat on his face, ran it roughly over his body, tousled his hair, then set it over his shoulders.  
  
Duo had to give himself a mental shake. //Geesh, don't let him see you drool, for Pete's sake!// "Uh, what mission is that?" he asked intelligently.  
  
In answer Heero looked pointedly at Duo's own wings. The look said enough for Duo to comprehend what he was saying.  
  
"Why the weights?"  
  
"Because we need to strengthen our muscles enough to use these." Heero fluttered his wings, sending a cool wash of air in the other boy's direction.  
  
Duo flapped his own wings and knitted his brows slightly as sore muscles protested, but still he grinned at seeing the movement and knowing it was his own. The soft fur covering the leather softened the sound, making it a muffled beating of air. He felt the tug of resistance as the air pressed against his moving wings. "You mean we can't already?"  
  
Heero shook his head and moved back over to the bench, wiping it off with this towel. "No, we're still too weak. Try some bench pressing; it'll help make you stronger." Heero's hands moved skillfully over the makeshift bar, removing weights made out of scraps of metal from both ends and placing them on the floor. "This should be light enough."  
  
Duo approached the bench cautiously, as though it might bite. He lay down on his back, carefully spreading his wings to the side, and reached up to grasp the bar. He was somewhat surprised when a third hand joined his and shot a questioning look up at Heero. Or at least he would have if he hadn't been met with Heero's crotch almost right above him. His black Spandex left almost nothing to the imagination. "Uhh, Heero, what are you doing?"  
  
"I'm spotting you, idiot."  
  
//Now _why_ was I attracted to him again? Okay, okay, other than _that_,// he thought while looking at Heero's groin. Heero helped Duo lift the weights off the catch, then mostly left him to work on his own. His thought process was temporarily halted and it didn't take long before he was covered in sweat and panting heavily when he was at rest. His muscles were wearily screaming in abuse and he vaguely heard Heero's voice telling him to do just three more, two more, last one, then felt his strong hand helping him lift the bar back up.  
  
  
  
Duo lay in exhaustion while Heero fanned him with his wings, then rolled his eyes up to meet Heero's gaze. "I think my arms are gonna fall off."  
  
He was expecting some slashing remark like he usually would have gotten, but all he got was a grunt in response. "Sit up."  
  
Duo groaned and lifted his tired body upright, hanging his head and dangling his arms off the sides of the bench. He was taken by surprise when he felt gentle hands lifting his braid out of the way and putting a towel around his shoulders to soak up the sweat. Then he saw the opportunity to execute his plan. "You know, Heero, a towel's not gonna cut it. We need a shower."  
  
Heero gave him a blank stare, then said, "The towels are in the dryer over there." He pointed with his chin to the far corner of the basement, where two old, junky machines were located.  
  
"In case you haven't noticed, I can't even reach up to undo my braid. How am I supposed to wash it?"  
  
Heero turned to face him fully, his eyes questioning. "Are you asking me to help you shower?"  
  
"Uhh, yeah," Duo replied and blushed slightly, smiling inwardly. //Heh heh heh, perfect. Oh, I'm so evil.//  
  
Heero shrugged in answer and walked over to the dryer. The door with a loud creak and he bent at the waist to take out a couple of towels, giving Duo a nice view of his pert derriere, then clanged it shut. Without waiting he started up the stairs, leaving Duo to hastily stand and clamber up after him. He was glad that the others didn't seem to be around. They were probably out working on their Gundams.  
  
Heero marched into the bathroom, turned on the lights, then let Duo in through the door before shutting it behind them. Duo barely had time to take a deep breath before Heero said, "Turn around."  
  
Duo grinned. "Bashful, are we-- ack!" Duo was grabbed by his shoulders and spun around till his back faced Heero, then felt his braid being tugged. Before he could protest, he heard the band snap and felt his hair being unwound with surprising gentleness.  
  
Gradually Duo relaxed as Heero's sure hands pulled apart the ropes of chestnut hair, loosening the knots and combing it with his fingers. Duo watched in the large mirror positioned over the sink as Heero softly ran his hands through the smooth, thick waves that cascaded of his back and tickled his wings. He couldn't help but smile at the look of sheer innocence and wonder on the other boy's face as he continued combing it even after he was finished, but all too soon his face became hard and passive again, the look of a soldier.  
  
Duo quickly averted his eyes when Heero glanced up in the mirror and caught him watching, but all he said was, "Strip."  
  
Duo's eyes bugged out and his jaw dropped, watching in the mirror as Heero promptly peeled off his shorts, turning them inside out in the process. He stood there in all his nude glory, crossing his arms and waiting for Duo to do the same, for all the world looking like he was waiting for a show to start. "Well?"  
  
"Uhh, yeah, I'm getting to it," Duo protested. He dropped his gaze from the mirror to stare at the floor as he pushed his boxers down over his hips and dropped them over his ankles. After he stepped out of them he just blushed and stood for a minute, then chanced a look up at Heero. His flush deepened as he saw that Heero was curiously looking him up and down, and despite his self-consciousness, Duo thought the expression was cute as hell on him.  
  
Duo thought to alleviate his embarrassment by changing the subject. "Won't these get wet?" he asked, flapping his wings slightly. As soon as he said he thought, //Geesh, what a dumb question.// He snorted inwardly.  
  
The other pilot walked over to the sink and turned on the hot and cold faucets, then stuck his hand under the running water and spilled some over his wing; the water rolled off the feathers in beads onto the floor. Duo joined him at the counter and did the same with his own wing. The fur covering it seemed to be water resistant, and the water dripped off harmlessly.  
  
"Huh. Well there's one problem solved," Duo said while scratching the back of his head with one hand.  
  
Heero walked past him to the tub and pulled aside the curtain, then ran the water until it was the right temperature before turning the shower on. The warm spray tapped against the curtain and coated Heero's hair in a fine mist. Without further adieu he stepped over the edge of the tub and got in, waiting expectantly for Duo to follow. "Hurry up, we don't have all day," he complained.  
  
"I'm comin', I'm comin'. All good things come in time," Duo teased before unabashedly following suit and getting in under the showerhead. With his front side turned shamelessly toward Heero, Duo closed his eyes and tilted his head back under the spray, soaking his long tresses thoroughly. The water pattered softly against his wings, feeling like a hundred warm, wet kisses across the expanse of leather, and Duo was hard put to suppress a moan at the delicious feeling. He let the warm water relax sore neck muscles as his hair was soaked and automatically tried to reach up and back to comb through it with his fingers. With a grimace he was forced to stop as his shoulders decided not to cooperate. He heard the click of a bottle being opened, then felt warm hands on his upper arms, lightly turning him to face the cascade of water, then a gentle massage as shampoo was rubbed into his scalp. "Mmm, Heero, that feels good," Duo said lethargically. He grinned as the other pilot grunted in response.  
  
Duo held his wings away from his body as the rubdown moved from the top of his head to follow the drenched locks downwards. His anticipation grew as Heero's skillful fingers swept down his lower back, his buttox, past his thighs, till he reached the end of Duo's hair. Almost against his will he felt himself beginning to harden by just visualizing what erotic things the other's hands could do while worked, but Heero frustratingly stuck to the task at hand, efficiently shampooing all of Duo's hair.  
  
He opened his eyes when all sensation stopped, wondering what Heero was doing, when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder trying to turn him around. //Oh, shit, I'm still hard.// On the verge of panicking, Duo tried to buy himself some time by stalling, but the hands became more insistent.  
  
"Duo, turn around so I can rinse out your hair," Heero growled. They struggled a little more forcefully, wings flapping and entangling, before one last shove spun him around to land flush with the other pilot, chests touching and faces inches apart. Duo closed his eyes in utter humiliation as his partial erection pressed into Heero's thigh, then went bug-eyed in shock as he felt Heero's answering arousal digging into his flesh.  
  
Duo stuttered in an attempt to say something, an excuse or apology or anything, but nothing intelligible came out. They stared at each other for a long moment, the water beating on Duo's back and wings. The long-haired boy found himself drowning in twin pools of deep blue, marveling at the pure innocence he saw buried in them. //This is it. This must be why I care for him,// Duo thought in awed wonderment. He knew that the boy before him had killed hundreds of people in his brief lifetime; had been killing since he was very young. But there was still so much untouched innocence in him, something that Duo felt he himself lacked.  
  
He realized he'd been staring for far too long and hastily backed away, his wings bumping into the wall behind him. "Uhh, sorry about that, really. Here, I'll just wash my hair out on my own," he offered. He expected Heero to angrily storm out of the bathroom or give him the cold shoulder, but instead Duo was surprised when he was quietly told to shut up. Heero placed a hand over Duo's eyes to protect them, then placed his head under the shower, gently letting the warm spray to rinse away the last remnants of shampoo from his hair. Duo was tilted back up and allowed to open his eyes. For a while they stared at each other again, then Heero took him by the shoulders and switched their positions.  
  
  
  
"What, no conditioner?" Duo asked, slightly miffed that he wouldn't be getting any more of the wonderful treatment.  
  
A small look of amusement passed over Heero's perfect features as he maneuvered his body under the shower. "It was a two in one shampoo and conditioner," he calmly stated as though nothing had happened and closed his eyes and mouth to drench his entire head.  
  
Duo admired the sight, watching the rivulets of water course down his slim, fit body, before reaching for the shampoo bottle. He tried to read the label, but it was in a foreign language, so he looked at the pictures and gathered that what Heero said was true. //Damn.//  
  
Heero pulled his head out of the stream and blinked water out of his eyes, then reached for the bottle in Duo's hands. Duo snatched it away before asking, "What are you doing?"  
  
Heero frowned. "Washing my hair, what's it look like?"  
  
Duo looked puzzled. "I thought we were doin' a 'you scratch my back, I scratch yours' kinda thing."  
  
The Japanese pilot snorted, but his eyes softened as he said, "You can't even do your own hair. What makes me think you could do mine?" He silently took the bottle from him as Duo frowned in displeasure.  
  
  
  
"Fine, but at least I get to watch the show." He put his hands on his hips and looked on as Heero smirked and vigorously lathered shampoo into his tangled mop of hair. His wings didn't seem to hinder his movements, so Duo had an unobstructed view of his lean chest working in tandem with his finely muscled arms and shoulders. Heero dunked his head under the spray again and washed out the residue, and Duo, finding his show cut short, again cursed the two in one shampoo. Heero turned his back towards Duo, trying not to bump him with his wings, and turned off the water. With only a single backward glance he pushed open the curtain and stepped out of the tub.  
  
As soon as he got out, Duo grabbed a towel off of the toilet seat and started rubbing himself down. He was still embarrassed about their little "incident" and wanted to cover himself up, then sink into a crack in the floor and disappear. As he was toweling himself off he encountered a small problem: how to dry his wings. The skin underneath wasn't wet, but the water seemed to cloy to the soft fur, dripping constantly onto the floor and his lower back. He frowned at them for a while, as though scowling at the limbs would make the water vanish, when an idea hit him. With a manic grin he spread his wings wide and gave a powerful flap, spraying water everywhere and knocking himself back a step from the air resistance. The mirror was covered and dripping, as were the walls, the ceiling, and a slightly pissed Heero. Said boy scowled at him, all of his careful drying undone and his naked body dripping from head to toe. Duo smirked and did it again, ridding himself of the water and transfering it to Heero.  
  
Duo shrugged and smiled innocently as Heero gave him a mild death glare. "Just drying off, buddy ol' pal," he said sweetly. He half thought that the other boy was going to come after him and do him bodily harm, but he just stayed where he was and closed his eyes in concentration. Duo barely had only just asked himself what the heck he was doing before the short-haired boy started ruffling the feathers of his wings in an elegant rise and fall, shaking the water off in a fine mist. It looked so simple, but he wondered how much control that small movement had taken. "Show off," he muttered.  
  
Heero smirked, dried the rest of himself off again, then wrapped his towel around his waist. "You need help with that?" he asked, indicating Duo's wet tangle of hair.  
  
Duo had tried toweling dry the lower locks that he could easily reach, but by the time he'd squeezed enough moisture out to dry it, more water seeped down from the top part of his hair and dripped down his back and legs. He nodded and grinned, saying, "Guess you get to play with my hair some more, angel boy."  
  
Heero's face registered shock, then a slight, genuine smile played at the corners of his lips. As Duo wrapped a towel around himself and opened the bathroom door, Heero followed into the chill air, up the stairs and into their room, where Duo planned to execute second phase of his little operation and figure out what the hell was going on.  
  
End Chapter Six.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Author's Note: Okay, when I wrote this I was trying really, really hard not to throw up, so please excuse the poor quality of writing. Man, I didn't even get to put in everything I wanted to! More plot development next chapter. Anyway, you likey? You no likey? Do tell, yes, do. I need feedback desperately! (goes into rabid dog mode) Must (twitch) have . . . REVIEWS!!!! (twitch twitch, drool) ^__^  
  
Post Script: Gomen nasai, mina-san, but I'm going to be out of town this whole next week. I'll try very hard to get computer access, but I can't guarantee anything. Kudasai sumimasen! 


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